I almost couldn't stand it, so I enlisted the aid of my two most drunken colleagues, Tubesock Pachinko and Barndoor Cowlegs, to help me weed through the hype and determine whether these guys were really any good or if Charlottesville just had a big crush on them.

Evolution has been pretty good to Peter Griesar. The former Dave Matthews Band keyboard player has been keeping his chin up since leaving the group-- collecting the proceeds from his DMB songwriting creds and putting alot of energy into securing the hype around his chosen musical vehicle, Supertanker. In the intervening years he has released a totally raw Christmas record and an almost as raw Disposable Love Songs, collaborated with David Sickmen, and basically charged on like a self-made superman-- some kind of symbol of do-it-yourself, don't-stop-me-now, I'm-big-as-I-wanna-be determination sailing across a wimpy sea of cheap nobodies.

His new four song release From the Supertanker Dude with the Zero Obsession is, next to the almost irritatingly clever lo-fi offerings of his past, a bit of a triumph. Although the CD only contains four tracks, every one "counts," they all grow on you, and a couple are downright classic.

Griesar has a way with medium fidelity that is really endearing. Lacking a beautiful rockstar voice, dazzling rockstar chops, powerful rockstar management, and expensive rockstar production, he forges ahead with his underground comic version of pop music. If records were magazines, Griesar would be publishing a a slightly nerdish but very hip alternative rag with a good sense of humor-- like "The Big Take-Over," or maybe even "Adbusters." (Now that's a compliment.)

My buddies Tubesock and Barndoor both liked the record. The second track, "Superhero," is an undeniable "hit," comically mournful and well constructed with lots of intentionally cliche cartoon phrasology pieced together in a pleasant prepubescent plea: "be my superhero." It's dumb but brutally clever and very well executed. The next track "Superfastgo," immediately won Tubesock's favor by mentioning beer in the opening parable. (Tubesock is prized for his intellectual depth and sensitivity.) As the Beck-meets-Stevie Wonder ("Passtime Paradise," almost note-for-note-- and somehow I'm not annoyed.) in a surreal 60's spy epic cranked into gear, Barndoor immediately got into the spirit of the thing: "He knows too much, he must be terminated."

Zero Obsession is supposedly going to be made available at upcoming DMB shows, ending a long-time rift between Griesar and the Red Light organization, so we may finally see him getting some of the "fifth Beatle" accolades that he so obviously deserves.

David Sickmen has been-- ever since that fateful day when his old band, the Ninth, performed naked in the basement of Tokyo Rose-- the darling of this little burg, and I never got it. He's a pretty appealing songwriter-- "catchy" is the word I would use-- but I find gaping holes in the pretender's finery, and thus, feel compelled to point a couple of them out.

Sickmen's new project, Beau Prie, is about to release Conversation Sale, putting into plastic his sentimental visions of love, selfishness and "she." "She" who constantly recurrs. "She" who is insatiable, unknowable, and yet seems to return to each track with renewed vigor. "She," the girlish gypsy of our collective fantasy who cannot be predicted or presumed.

Give up already!

In the first track "Roll Eleven," we find that "she's asleep in the room where her makeup lives/ caught between the space of Adam's ribs." Pretty clever wordsmithy. It almost sounds like he's laying a pretty heavy idea on us. But unfortunately, that's it. There is no more development-- just repetition-- and by the 16th time this long metaphor is sung to us in Sickmen's raspy little boy voice (somewhere between Paul Weller and a Muppet), we are more than ready-- no, make that dying-- to hear a new revelation. This problem persists through much of the record-- inspired poetic sendups end with bummer museless vacuums, and then the whole mess is repeated ad infinitum. Incrongruous ideas are constantly being trainwrecked together and the CD comes off like a collection of unfinished ideas.

But I have to admit that I kind of like it-- it has some solid rock, some touchingly tender moments and some very eloquent musical maneuvers-- simple alt/pop flavors of XTC and Elvis Costello, Toad the Wet Sprocket and the Beatles. "Vesuvius" is a noteworthy rocker. It's just that I really can't stand for the silliness of a line like "this rhythm unravels us/ means death to our feet" being repeated over and over-- it didn't mean anything the first time (although it almost sounded like it did), and it continues to not mean anything through countless repititions. To me it's like he's always getting ready to say something and then... NOT! "To live and to give makes me... sad/ makes you... sad" AHH!

Tubesock couldn't stand the record-- was pissed that I wouldn't turn it off--, but Barndoor tried to like it. In the end, of the three of us, I was its biggest proponent, and as you can tell from this review, that's not saying alot. I'm sure Charlottesville will adore it.

--Cripsy Duck

(Duck Note: This review provoked an angry response from David's sister.) .................................................................................................................................................. up